I wrote this xmas song for you – so I don’t have to be straight w/you – I’m so oblique – I cannot speak – and my words – just make things worse – being silent’s not the way to be – but I cant just say what’s wrong w/me – this kind of thing I’d rather thing – cos it makes it feel slightly unreal – this is my xmas song – to let you know what’s going on – this is my xmas song – though it doesn’t sound like one – this is an apology to you – all the crap I put you through you did to me – unintentionally – I gave it back in spite of that – you don’t know me that well at all – and yes I know that’s my fault but I cant help hiding myself – because I feel I’ve no appeal //chorus// I know this tells you nothing at all – but I’m wacky and I’m off the wall – the truth is I don’t want you to know – I wrote this song anyway though

Guilt-free shag

I lay myself to rest – on yr. meanin[;less breasts – and I cwtsh you though yr. not worth cwtshing at all – I tell myself a lie – this is just killing time – but it’s time that I shouldn’t be killing at all – cos the place I have left was the place I was best to stay - the place I have left was the place I was best to stay – when I look into yr. face I see straight thru – I don’t care what I’m saying when I talk to you – and I’m giving nothing when I give it to you - the place I have left was the place I was best to stay – and the one I have left was the one I was best to stay with

Sharleen Spiteri (machete the bitch)

(instrumental)

ideas and fighting

I cant waltz anymore my feet stick to the floor when I try – and the beat is all wrong anyway bu the lyrics are nice – and the only time we dance together is so we can grope – all the girls look the same anyway and they look like a joke – would you break both my legs if I said this to you? – would you break both my legs – if I told you this truth? Cos it’s hard to be nice when I’m not full of booze – yes it’s hard to be nice to an empty like you – so lets walk on the beach holding hands singing ‘sit down’ by james – and we’ll stop at the line I don’t like when I’m sat in the Bay – I can’t sing anymore lack of alcohol’s made my throat dry – but if you’d sing along or if someone would that would be nice – and we’ll go look for shells we can stamp on and break – we’re not trying to be hard – we’re just trying to get space – and we’ll talk of ideas and the fight we’ll do through and then we can dance ‘til there’s fighting to do

Jaded wannabe parade

Tonight on this embarrassing platform – another jaded wannabe parade – lonely people in an internet chatroom – emoticons of despair and pain – I want a goth-girl who walks it like she talks it – not a day-glo pretence of pain – a primary colour poster of anarchy – a black and red t-shirt w/che – are you rock and roll? Would you sell your soul for a piece of fame? – are you sponsored by N*****? – I’d rather just be shit than be a hypocrite – and when I fail I’ll get a job in retail – and pretend I never cared – it’s just another jaded wannabe parade – I’m sorry if this is a dumb question – but are you just scum or are you just scum? – yr. talent is post-modern and lazy and it’s not even any fucking fun – I’ll shut up now just in case you notice that I’m talking directly to you – but you fell asleep before I started – you don’t know how much I hate you ee oo ee oo ee oooooooooooo